Page 125 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
“A nymph?”
Mikhail grimaced. “Nymphs have to pierce the skin with their nails, and even then, they inject poison deep inside. I’m talking about necrosis caused by surface contact.”
“Magic?” Viktor’s brow furrowed in curiosity.
“Probably…” Amelia’s witch blood – it had to be witchcraft.
“I’ve never heard of anything like that, but if some witch is causing necrosis with bare hands…” Viktor whistled, gazing at the ceiling. “That means they’re making very dangerous deals with the Higher Powers.”
“That’s the only explanation? Could it be an object that grants the power?”
“If it’s an object, it’s likely just a conduit for dark magic. Either it’s magic, or you’re talking about a new biological species, which would be too much after the reptilians.”
“Relax, no new species. But is it possible for someone to make a deal with the Higher Powers without realising it?”
Viktor chuckled. “I have no idea, my friend. Why don’t you ask Zacharia? He’s more knowledgeable about witchcraft.”
“Zacharia went to the village to check the human news.”
“Ask him when he gets back.”
Mikhail lowered his gaze to his hands and fell silent.
“You and Presiyan aren’t trying to recruit some dark witch or witcher, are you?” Viktor asked.
Mikhail ignored the question. He wasn’t keeping Amelia’s secret for her sake – he feared what his enemies might do if they ever got wind of it. “One last question,” he said, tilting his chin towards Viktor. “Would you trust a creature capable of causing necrosis with their hands?”
Viktor looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Not for the next thousand years.”
***
Mikhail
His heart pounded against his ribs, desperate to rouse him. Air rushed into his lungs as Mikhail’s eyes snapped open. He sat up in bed, taking in the night sky beyond the window; his fingers brushed over the four scars on his torso. The stars reminded him he was far from Antambazi, and the healed wounds whispered he was far from his past.
He pulled on his clothes in the dark, wondering where to wander this time to calm the demons in his mind. Every tree stump in the area was familiar now, and the dense forests of Strandzha threatened to become his second home.
Running a hand through his hair, which brushed just below his ears, he allowed his thoughts to drift. His building – sheltering hundreds of creatures he had pledged to protect – was under siege. The Hospital, once a sanctuary, was gradually fading into a distant memory. And here he was, meandering through the mountains, waiting.
The floorboards creaked under his heavy steps as he moved along the hallway. A sliver of light seeped from a door at the far end. An instinct drew him towards it, like a beacon in the dark.
He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated in mid-air. This was inappropriate. Visiting her at this hour might give the wrong impression.
Yet, his fist struck the wood. After a few sluggish seconds, came the slow grind of a key in a lock.
She had locked herself in? Perhaps his assumption that she still harboured feelings for him was misplaced, and Amelia had long forgotten him in favour of someone else’s company. Someone like Callan.
The door swung open, revealing her standing there, her hair tousled and wearing a T-shirt at least two sizes too large. Mikhail’s gaze swept past her into the room, half-expecting to spot Callan. No sign of him.
“Yes?” Amelia asked when the silence stretched.
He cleared his throat. “Alex said you needed me to fix some furniture.”
Her puzzled expression almost made him turn on his heel and retreat. Then, understanding dawned on her face. “I had a broken chair, but Callan fixed it earlier today.”
Of course. Mikhail forced a smile. “Then tomorrow at 10 a.m. We’ll train in the forest.”
“All right.” She nodded, and he was about to leave when she called out, “Mikhail?”
